Lilies Say Sorry

Loki wasn't sure leaving Amelia to her own devices for a full week following her confession of suicidal tendencies was perhaps the best way to allow her to deal with her sorrow, but she had asked him to give her time alone to remedy her morose and dejected state, and he knew the importance of allowing her privacy while she was managing her emotions; besides, Loki was sure that by entering her deceased brother's room after all this time, Amelia had finally transcended beyond the figurative, debilitating barrier she had unknowingly constructed in her mind, and had begun to take the necessary steps towards the final stage of grief: acceptance.

After a couple of days, Loki had been tempted to check up on Amelia, just so he could be sure she was, at the very least, coping. Instead, he spent a substantial amount of time staring down at his phone, vaguely hoping in the back of his mind that the woman might send him a reassuring message to indicate she was alive and well. No such message came.

After four days, he had caved and sent her a brief text that merely enquired 'Are you alright?' and waited agonisingly for the next half hour when she didn't immediately respond. She had, of course, eventually, and Loki had picked up his phone with record timing in the same millisecond it vibrated, revealing the notification.

'I'm okay. I'm at work.' The words had read, followed by what looked like a little yellow smiling face within her message; he'd quirked an eyebrow at the tiny icon as a rush of relief flooded through him - Amelia was at work, which meant she was well and motivated enough to remove herself from bed and face the world.

Loki's concern was abated for the rest of the week, and he returned to the training room to spar regularly with Thor, who was pleased to find that his brother no longer seemed as troubled with his thoughts as he previously did. The God of Thunder did not bring up his weekly-fluctuating moods, but Loki could see in his brother's still-working eye, the calculating look that denoted nothing but careful consideration. If Thor was under the belief that his attentiveness for his brother was subtle, then he was gravely mistaken.

It was no secret that the other occupants of Avengers Tower were so incredibly curious about Loki's affinity with Amelia, but they knew that if they attempted to ask innocent questions, pry further, or even try to offer advice, they would be met with undesirable snark.

"Remember when I asked for your opinion, Stark? Me neither."

"Oh, I didn't realise you were an expert on my life, Banner. Please, continue, I'll take notes."

"This might come as quite a shock to you, brother, but what if I told you that my personal life was absolutely none of your business?"

Loki wasn't running low on snide comebacks by any means, but his patience was certainly running thin for the constant barrage of questions he often found himself receiving; it was like a damned riot - as soon as one of them began to interrogate him, the others joined promptly, and Loki found it was far easier to simply gravitate away from their still-blaring voices and find somewhere peaceful he could sit and read his books instead of listening to their pointless questioning.

It was the exact reason he enjoyed Amelia's company in comparison to theirs. They talked too much about subjects that irritated him, while Amelia talked pleasantly and sparingly about little stories or snippets of her life that he actually grew to take an interest in. He didn't quite know why he had taken an interest in them, but it was enjoyable to see her speak enthusiastically and with a smile.

He hoped, as he made his way back to Amelia's home on Friday evening, that the woman was in a more content state of mind and would be willing to share small anecdotes and narratives of her day as she usually did.

Knock, knock, knock.

Loki's hand fell back to his side and he waited quietly, listening with bated breath for the telling noise of Amelia's pattering footsteps across her wooden floor; it wasn't quite as eager as he was used to, but the sound did follow, and Loki expelled the agitation from his expression just in time for the woman to answer the door.

The door swung open, and there stood Amelia, her hair slightly ruffled as it always was, fading shadows below her eyes, and a tight nervousness that manifested itself as a sheepish smile upon her face. Those were the first few things Loki noticed; the second thing he noticed was that Amelia was wearing her figure-hugging purple blouse she had worn many weeks back - the one that had initially caught his eye.

"Amelia. You look-"

"Like a mess?" Amelia cut in with a light-hearted smile on her face as she closed the door to her apartment behind him.

Loki smiled in response to her jesting tone, "You look so much better", he corrected, and Amelia's eyes flickered down shyly, a tinge of redness reaching her cheeks.

"I'm really sorry about last week", she spoke softly, the sound of shame very prominent in her voice, "I'm so… embarrassed… that you had to… see me like that." Her speech came slow and uncertain, as though she was picking her words carefully, "You know, ah… I really didn't think you were going to come back", she finished with a skittish laugh that bordered on neurotic, evident that she really wasn't amused by her own statement in the slightest.

For a moment, Loki could only stare at her.

His lips parted, along with the lightest shake of his head; he wanted to ask her why, why would I not come back? But perhaps her memory was fogged from the alcohol that had clouded her mind - he had stayed with her when she was at her most vulnerable, and yet she believed he would still abandon her.

Instead, he snapped his lips shut and let his actions do the talking - removing his gloves, he reached out to cup Amelia's face with his palm; it was a wordless comfort, something surprisingly affectionate for Loki's standards, though the gesture felt all too right. Amelia's eyes widened fractionally, but she smiled, and her own hand rose to cover his, slowly and daintily, as though she was afraid he would retract the delicate touch.

His thumb grazed the pinkness of her cheek as his fingertips curled slightly through her hair, and he realised that her locks were just a little bit shorter than when he last saw them.

"You've had your hair cut", he remarked, running his fingers through the slightly chaotic tresses, and Amelia bit her lip in a vain attempt to hide her brilliant smile.

"Most guys don't notice things like that", she murmured demurely, and Loki huffed an exhale, because how could one not notice the way Amelia's curls framed her face just a little more perfectly than before?

She peeked up at him fondly through her glasses and Loki's gaze went straight to her eyes, admiring the warmth and kindness reflected back at him. He once described her brown eyes as plain and boring - oh, how foolish he had been. Her eyes were beautiful.

Kiss her, his brain urged him. Her lips looked so soft, and he remembered at once the way she had drunkenly asked to kiss him. Loki wondered briefly whether she remembered too, but the thought dispersed - she had been drunk, that was all, drunk with no filter on the thoughts running through her head.

He looked away from her, his hand falling from her face as he forced his gaze towards Aaron Avery's old room by way of distracting himself from his intrusive thoughts. The door was open, allowing ventilation, and the curtains were pulled apart, permitting sunlight to filter in; apart from the bed, wardrobe and the desk, the room appeared surprisingly barren.

"You cleared the room out", Loki observed, and Amelia followed his gaze and nodded lightly in affirmation.

"Something I should've done a long time ago", the woman declared gently, "I worked up the nerve to give the room a good scrub from top to bottom, too", she smiled with diffidence, "You would not believe how many spiders were chilling in there." She shuddered slightly, shaking her head with a look of revulsion, and Loki could tell she was covering her ruefulness with jokes, as she tended to do.

"You moved those metal cabinets by yourself?" Loki enquired with a arched eyebrow; Amelia wasn't tiny, but those filing drawers had looked quite heavy for a human to manoeuvre alone.

Amelia flushed slightly, "Ah, no. I tried to, but they were still pretty hefty even after I emptied the files out", she breathed a sigh, a look of exasperation befalling her face, "Ethan helped me…"

Loki's eyes narrowed, "What?" he muttered, irritation spiking at the thought of that sleazy man even looking at Amelia, let alone being close in proximity to her. "Why? You could have sent me a message on my phone - I would have helped you", he proclaimed, surprised by his own words. It was true, though. If she had called and asked for help, he would have come.

Amelia smiled appreciatively, and then snickered, "I specifically recall you giving me your number on the condition that I refrain from bombarding you with pointless messages", her voice was full of jest, and Loki rolled his eyes.

"Obviously that doesn't categorise as pointless, Amelia." He stated, even as she giggled and waved it off; Loki's mouth formed a frown, "Why did you ask him for help? I thought you didn't like him."

Amelia raised an eyebrow at Loki's marginally clipped tone of voice, "I didn't ask him for help. He practically invited himself in to help me when he saw me carrying boxes of Aaron's old stuff out the door", she nibbled at the inside of her cheek, "I tried to politely get rid of him but he just… didn't seem to understand that I wanted him gone."

Loki bristled, his jaw clenching automatically at the notion that Amelia's neighbour had refused to leave when asked; he knew there was a reason that man had rubbed him the wrong way - Ethan was annoyingly persistent despite being told 'no'. The worst kind of man, in Loki's opinion.

"Anyway, do you wanna sit down?" Amelia seemed eager to steer the subject away from her unmannerly neighbour, likely having seen the aggravated knit in Loki's eyebrows, and quickly motioned the couch with a wave of her hand as she took a few tentative steps towards the kitchen, "I got rid of the alcohol I had left - well, except for the red wine, cause you like it - so if you wanna drink, that's fine", she explained, pulling a brightly coloured can from the fridge, "It's just soda for me now", she smiled bashfully, clearly reminded of what the alcohol had done to her mind the week prior, "I don't really want a repeat of last Friday."

Loki shrugged out of his coat, hung it on the rack by the door, and made his way to the sofa, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he went, "I appreciate the sentiment, but don't you think you will be tempted by the wine if the urge to drink arises?" He did not mind drinking something else for Amelia's sake, and he was moderately pleased to find she was so keen to be away with the carousing habit that had sent her spiraling downwards.

"Naaaah", Amelia held the note on her tongue comically, opening her soda can with a flick of her finger; she smiled as the compressed fizz escaped and took a small sip, "I've never really been a fan of red wine."

Loki regarded her silently for a few moments before he nodded, "I'll have the wine, then."

As Amelia poured him a glass, Loki's eyes flickered to a cardboard box placed unobtrusively beside the coffee table - it was a new addition to the room, but he had not noticed it until he sat down. Amelia noticed his curious gaze as she placed his glass on the surface before him and smiled sadly, indicating the box of odds and ends, "I wanted to keep a few of Aaron's things, like his poetry, a few oddities… he had a drawer in his room full of drawings he'd been gifted from some of his younger patients", she paused to lean down and proceeded to proffer a pristine piece of paper with colourful, childlike etchings. Loki eyed the drawing, which seemed to exhibit the crude image of a young boy with a cast on his arm standing beside a man in a doctor's coat, both of which were smiling widely.

"The writing in the corner says thank you for-"

"-Thank you for fixing my elbow", Loki read, a smirk on his face, "Yes, this child's writing is, evidently, legible, even with a broken arm. Unlike your brother's penmanship", he finished with a teasing tone, and Amelia shot him a sarcastic look.

"My brother was a doctor. All doctors have terrible handwriting, didn't you know?" Amelia laughed, "You'd think they all took the same 'how not to write' class in medical school."

Loki was pleased with the authentic curl of Amelia's lips, exposing the return of her high spirits, and he found himself smiling in response to her content expression; she returned the child's drawing to the cardboard box that Loki finally noticed was marked 'Aaron's Stuff' and sat down beside him, taking another sip of her fizzy drink before giving Loki a look as if she was going to say something, but then reconsidered, closing her mouth.

"What is it, Amelia?" Loki enquired, all too familiar with her characteristics, and Amelia blinked with faux innocence and shrugged her shoulders; Loki pressed, "You have that look on your face like you want to ask me something, but can't get the words out."

She became a little flustered, her cheeks warm as she distractedly tapped her finger against the side of her soda can to the tune of a song in her head. She sighed, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she finally gathered the words to speak, "It's just… James", Amelia looked him in the eyes and Loki straightened beneath her meaningful gaze, "It's come to my attention that we don't really… know anything about each other."

Loki blinked a few times fast, swallowing reflexively, "What do you mean?" he asked calmly, though there was a sudden pulse of agitation within him at the prospect that she was going to begin asking him questions about himself - he kept his identity a secret from her for a reason - "Of course we know things about each other, you never stop talking", he deflected, forcing the gentle quip into his response, hoping Amelia wouldn't pick up on the unmistakable unease in his manner.

He had a Silvertongue, clever in the art of crafting lies with ease; he could fabricate an unexceptional life story without breaking a sweat, something believable and boring that would likely prevent Amelia from asking any more questions, but… Loki did not want to lie. For perhaps the first time in his long life. He did not want to dig a deeper hole than he had already by impulsively giving a fake name, hiding the hideous truth of who he really was from this unsuspecting woman.

What he wanted was the unobtainable reality in which Amelia knew the truth, and things could continue as they had. But that would never happen. He was a monster who had killed people and he would never be forgiven for his transgressions, least of all by someone as kind and caring as Amelia.

If only she knew, Loki thought. But of course, it was naive to think he could trick Amelia forever; she would find out, eventually, one way or another, and he did not want that day to come so soon.

"You know things about me, yeah", Amelia spoke, "But I know nothing about you."

Loki averted his eyes, taking a sip of wine to buy time. Depending on what she wanted to know about him, he could perhaps… weave truths into his deception - warp the facts so that he could reveal parts of himself without stating the context - that way he could protect his identity and reveal whatever Amelia wished to know.

Amelia gave a sigh at his blatant show of discomfort, "Alright, you're clearly not enthusiastic with sharing things about yourself", she gave him an understanding smile, "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, and I won't make you explain yourself, but you know that you can, like, trust me, right? I mean, if you have secrets, who am I gonna tell?"

Trusting Amelia wasn't the problem. The issue lied with Amelia's reaction to the truth; there was no way she didn't know the crimes that Loki of Asgard had committed against the people of Earth, and if she found out… well, Amelia didn't seem the type of person who would forgive a man that took innocent lives.

"What do you want to know?" Loki muttered in resignation; the woman said so herself that she wouldn't force him to explain himself if he chose not to answer her questions, but there were some questions that would just seem ridiculously suspicious for him not to answer if he wanted to continue the charade that he was a regular mortal man.

"Hey, we could play twenty questions!" Amelia exclaimed, pointing a finger up like she'd just had the most amazing idea, and Loki winced slightly at the suggestion.

"Twenty questions sounds like an awful lot of questions", he responded wearily; he'd rather not spend the evening cautiously revealing things about himself.

Amelia snorted, "Okay, it doesn't have to be twenty questions, but we can take turns asking each other things we want to know. How's that sound?" She looked all too hopeful and Loki begrudgingly agreed with a nod.

"Great, I'll start", she put her finger to her lip in consideration, as if there was a severe limit to the multitude of questions swirling through her head and she wanted to choose wisely, before her eyes lit up, "What's your last name?"

Loki had learnt from his time on Earth that it was exceedingly rare for humans to follow the same naming customs as Asgardians - an overwhelming percentage of the Midgardian population used the convention of group names that carried throughout familial lines as opposed to the child simply inheriting the second name from the parent's first name. Odinson and Laufeyson were too recognisable so he sifted through the various surnames of the Midgardians he did know, hoping to think of one that was common enough not to link back with anybody of note. Stark? No. Banner? No. Romanoff, Rogers, Fury, Barton-

Barton. 'Barton' sounded discreet enough. Clint Barton was better known by his alias, Hawkeye, so Loki saw no reason why the name would not suffice, "It's Barton", he answered nonchalantly, and Amelia nodded, unperturbed by his extended pause, because naturally Amelia had no reason to suspect him of lying to her.

"James Barton", Amelia tested, and then smiled, "I feel like I should've known that ages ago", she gave Loki an expectant look and brought her can of soda to her mouth, "Now you ask me a question."

"Oh", Loki murmured. What was he supposed to ask her? What did he want to know about her that he hadn't already discovered? The curiosity about Amelia's rage towards her father drifted into the forefront of his mind, but she had reacted so unpredictably the first time Loki had mentioned him, and the last thing he wanted to do was upset her.

So he started off with a simple question, "Have you always lived in Manhattan?"

Amelia's eyebrows rose slightly, as though that wasn't the question she had expected Loki to ask, "No, actually. I used to live in New Jersey. My brother and I moved here just after my mother died, which was, ah, over ten years ago now", she pursed her lips, "I don't miss living there."

Loki nodded, "I see."

"What about you?" Amelia leaned in closer, inquisitive and poised to listen.

"I used to live… somewhere else. Far away from here." He knew his words were cryptic and offered next to nothing by way of satiating Amelia's interest, but he couldn't very well divulge that information without giving himself away. "My old home was destroyed." He'd told her of this before, and Amelia had inferred that his home had perished in a fire - she didn't need to know anything more than that about the tragedy.

Amelia knew not to press, "What about your family?"

Loki gave a sly smile, "Isn't it my turn to ask a question?"

With a roll of her eyes, Amelia conceded, nodding her head for him to speak.

"Would you tell me about your mother?" It was a fair question, Loki mused, given Amelia had jumped straight to enquiring about his own family, and the woman's face formed a wistful smile.

"My mother", she began, "was beautiful, smart, funny, and the best story-teller who ever lived." Amelia spoke so matter-of-factly that Loki hardly doubted the exaggeration in her words, "I have a wild imagination and it's all thanks to her; she was the reason I read so many books growing up - and she used to tell me made up stories about all sorts of things. Sorcerers, goblins, elves, mythological creatures - and sometimes", she held up a finger, "we would play pretend. I'd be a witch, but like, a good witch. Not an evil witch. Mum would be a dragon, and it would start out like you expect- I would be summoned and sent on a quest to take out the fearsome beast! But then it would inevitably avert from your cliche storyline and I would become friends with the dragon, and she would become my sidekick, sometimes my brother would join in too-" she paused, growing red all of a sudden at the sight of Loki's amused smile, "Sorry, I'm talking too much. What was your question again? I went off on a tangent."

Loki chuckled, the image of Amelia acting out such tales with her mother gave him much entertainment, "I think my question was answered." It reminded him of his own childhood, when he was very young and often acted out similar games with his brother. Thor always wanted to be the hero in their innocent little escapades, and Loki was always far too happy to play the opposition. Some things never change, Loki thought, as he swallowed a mouthful of wine.

"Now will you tell me about your family?" Amelia shifted in her seat, sitting cross-legged as she watched him attentively, and Loki's eyes flickered unwittingly down as her blouse stretched slightly across her chest. He looked away quickly, not wishing to be caught staring at her bust.

"Um… uh", Loki stammered for a moment, "My parents are dead, and my brother-" he faltered at the look on Amelia's face and realised that his words and unemotional tone didn't really match well, "It happened a long time ago, I'm over it", he lied, before she could predictably and empathetically murmur 'I'm sorry' in that soft, little voice. Amelia frowned but did not interrupt, so he continued, "My brother and I have had our differences in the past", that was putting it lightly, "but things seem… alright at the moment." He shrugged, "There isn't really much else to tell." He pressed his glass to his lips, sipping the red liquid as Amelia appeared thoughtful.

"Did they…" Amelia trailed off, clearly indecisive over whether she should ask her next question, "did they die in the fire?"

Loki shook his head, "No. My father grew frail and passed away naturally-" which was only half true, "-and my mother was killed."

Amelia swallowed in shocked silence before speaking in a low voice, "That's terrible… I'm so sor-"

"Why are you sorry?" Loki chimed in, eyebrows drawn together in a purposeful stare, "Why do you always say you're sorry? It was not your doing." While he may have spoken a little forcefully, he did not intend to seem exasperated by her utterance, though he wasn't sure whether Amelia saw it that way given the surprised widening of her eyes. Loki was merely curious, and a little perplexed by her insistent apologies.

Amelia's mouth opened and closed like a fish for a few moments, "Well, I… I know, but… I'm still sorry that you had to go through that", she admitted, her head cocked slightly. "I care about you, you know", she raised her hand as she said this, letting it rest soothingly on Loki's arm, and Loki almost flinched from the unforeseen, tingling shiver that seized his shoulders at Amelia's benevolent words.

The pang of guilt still radiated in his chest, knowing that he was undeserving of her care - but it was compelling to hear Amelia say those things, almost addictive, in fact. He was ashamed to find himself pining for more.

He blinked a few times fast, shaking his head free of such thoughts, and continued their little game, "Why do you wish your father was dead?"

He watched carefully as the muscles in Amelia's face twitched and she lowered her gaze, bringing her hands both to her lap where she began to fiddling with her soda can anew, "Did I say that?" She enquired gently, sounding simultaneously sheepish and bitter.

"Yes, essentially. Do you take it back?" Loki quirked an eyebrow, unable to read the expression on Amelia's face.

"No", Amelia grumbled, "I'm just not usually that blunt. I suppose drunken me is, though." She sighed, "My father was like, the complete opposite of my mum. I remember making a macaroni craft picture for him at school once when I was six years old, and when I gave it to him, he threw it away and told me it was stupid and pointless." She nibbled her bottom lip angrily, "He always kept up appearances in front of my mother, pretending like he cared about me, but when mum wasn't there, he'd tell me I was useless and that he wished I was never born. He was always extra hard on me, yelling at me whenever I did even the slightest thing wrong, brushing off what few achievements I earned in school like they were nothing. My brother was his favourite and he didn't try to hide it."

Loki watched the creases of Amelia's face deepen into a frown; he understood the pain of being cast aside and lost in the shadow of an older sibling. "Were you not jealous of your brother?" He wondered aloud; Amelia always spoke so fondly of Aaron that it was difficult to imagine that she ever looked upon him in a bitter light. Unlike with himself, where it had been all to easy for Loki to grow resentful of Thor throughout their childhood.

"No, Aaron didn't approve of our father's mistreatment of me. Aaron was always defending me, reassuring me, telling me that I wasn't a failure and that the problem lied with our rotten father. After mum died, my father had no reason to hold back. He threatened to kick me out of the house several times. The first thing Aaron did once he finished medical school and secured a job was move both of us out of there."

Loki nodded stiffly, entirely comprehending of her heavy emotions and fierce hatred towards her father; he too had felt those exact sentiments towards Odin. "When was the last time you spoke to him?"

Amelia huffed a mirthless laugh, "Aaron's funeral", she answered, "Y'know I had this… hope… that my father might've come to his goddamn senses after my brother died. I don't know why I thought it might have changed things, but… my father was quiet throughout the funeral service, and he approached me after it - bear in mind, I was an absolute wreck at the time - and I thought he was going to apologise for all the years he was cruel to me, but do you know what he said?" Amelia sniffed, her expression drawn tight, and it was clear to Loki she wasn't too far off from crying again. He put his arm around her reflexively, prompting her not with words, but with a cautious look.

Amelia blinked away the threat of tears, sinking appreciatively into the comforting half-embrace, "He said it should've been me, not Aaron", she bit down hard on her lower lip, "He said it was my fault Aaron was dead, and that it should've been me; and I just stood there, not knowing what to say", she raised the still-cold can of soda to her cheeks, cooling the heat of negative emotions rising from her face, "I wish I'd told him to go fuck himself, but I just froze like an idiot. I mean, can you imagine being hated so much by somebody who's supposed to love you unconditionally? Do you know what that's like?"

Loki wasn't sure if her question was rhetorical, but he found himself answering anyway, "Yes. I do."

The woman turned to face him tearily, sorrowful creases in her forehead, "You do?" Her watery eyes looked imploringly at him, wishing for him to continue, and he breathed a sigh, shrugging his shoulders.

"I was… adopted", he told her, "and my parents kept it from me. I found out by myself, and it was upsetting, to say the least." He couldn't very well explain in-depth just how upsetting it was - that he belonged to a race of creatures inherently hated by his adoptive family, and the people he believed himself to be apart of. "And when I discovered this, everything slipped into place. I'd been raised in my brother's shadow, under the pretense that we were equal, but we never were. My father-" he spoke the word with disdain, "favoured my brother, and my brother often treated me as though I was inferior to him." Thor had since grown to acknowledge his mistakes, but Loki still held a grudge for all those years his brother had thought him lesser.

"Sometimes I think my mother was the only one who truly loved me, and I let her down", he divulged conclusively, and eyed the slight quiver of Amelia's lip - her expression was drowned in sympathy and the gloss of her eyes only became more prominent with his words.

In Amelia's defense, she seemed to be trying valiantly not to cry; with a sharp sniff, she gave a faint smile, "Guess we both have issues, huh?"

"You could say that."

With only a moment of prudent hesitation, Amelia placed her soda can on the coffee table, shifted closer and wrapped her arms around him, her body positioned at an odd angle just to keep the sentimental contact; Loki had mastered the art of not tensing up in response to her strong affections, and the warmth of her body through the material of their clothes was quite noticeable, as was the vanilla scent emanating from her hair once again.

If anybody had told Loki three months ago that he would find himself succumbing to the need of physical affection - and with a mortal, no less - then he would have laughed hard in their face, but here he sat, docile and peaceable in the arms of a this woman, and it was positively idyllic.

Loki basked in the intimate closeness for just a few moments before pulling her nearer still, till she was virtually sat in his lap. The threat of her tears were still very discernible from the glint in her eyes, and Loki searched his brain for something that could potentially cheer her up.

"Will you tell me about your occupation?" She had been happy before while recounting snippets of her work as a florist, so it stood to reason the subject could take her mind away from any distressing memories.

As predicted, a small smile pulled at Amelia's lips, "Yeah… sure. I've been working there eight years now, and I've always had a thing for flowers so, y'know, it's a pretty great job. The people are lovely, there's only occasionally a snobby customer, but most of the time they're friendly." She retracted her arms to wipe away the wetness of her eyes, but remained very comfortably sat in Loki's lap.

"I arrange flowers, make bouquets, construct floral displays - it's pretty therapeutic. Do you have a favourite flower?" She tilted her head up to meet his gaze, and Loki became rather aware of the short distance between their faces; Amelia's eyes were no longer teary, and instead shined with contentment, he could easily describe them as doe-like.

Loki cleared his throat, shaking his head gently, "No, not really."

"Oh, well… I like carnations. Red ones, specifically. Dark red ones, even more specifically", she licked her lips, grinning, "They symbolise love, and they look gorgeous. People are always so focused on red roses when it comes to buying flowers for their partners - on Valentines day especially, that they forget that carnations are just as meaningful."

Amelia's face was rather mesmerising as she spoke about her floral passion, and Loki couldn't help but enquire more, just for the chance to see her eyes light up, "How many species of flower do you stock?"

The woman let out a tittering laugh, melodic and happy, music to Loki's ears, "Oh, wow, well, quite a few. I don't know how many off the top of my head, but hmm… we've got carnations, roses, tulips, daisies, daffodils, sunflowers, chrysanthemums, lavender-"

"What do they symbolise?"

Amelia giggled again, "Lavenders? They commonly symbolise serenity and devotion."

"And the others?"

"You want me to list the connotations of each different coloured species of flower I sell?" There was a playful lilt to her voice as she quirked an eyebrow, the smile on her face stronger than ever, and Loki smirked, shrugging his shoulders.

"Consider it a challenge."

Amelia dramatically and comically rolled her eyes, "Well now I have to, don't I?"

Loki listened attentively as she began to recite the meanings of different flowers, counting on her fingers as she did so - which was rather impractical, given she could list far more than ten, but it was something she did automatically, as if it helped her to remember - until she had trouble recalling any floral species she hadn't already listed.

"Mmm, ah… oh, primroses symbolise courage, and, uh… peonies promise good fortune-"

"What about lilies?" Loki asked curiously; lilies were the flowers that Amelia always placed on her brother's grave, and he was interested to know if there was any particular reason for that.

Amelia paused, her lips parted slightly, and she blinked a few times, "Lilies… um, white lilies symbolise… chastity and virtue, but, uh…" she breathed an almost inaudible sigh, fiddling with her fingers, and Loki inclined his head, unable to perceive the meaning behind her body language. "To me… lilies say sorry."

Loki wasn't entirely sure what she meant by that, but he surmised it probably had something to do with her brother, judging by the way her gaze had fallen forlornly to her fidgeting fingers; he tilted her head up with a finger below her chin, smirking roguishly in the hope that it would encourage her own smile, "Have we asked twenty questions yet? Because this game is lasting quite a long time."

His playful words had the desired effect, and Amelia smiled again, dipping her head in a nod, "Well, I think you might've asked more questions than I did. Can I even the score and ask you one more?"

She sounded oddly bold all of a sudden, an impish gleam in her eyes that reminded him all too much of himself, a hint of daring mischief that sent a pleasant tingle through his chest, "Go right ahead."

Amelia held his gaze for a lasting moment, before her eyes flickered briefly to his lips and back, "May I kiss you now?"

Loki felt himself swallow hard with incredulity, his eyes widening as he once again felt that familiar pulse behind his ribcage, like his heart was threatening to jump out of his chest, because this time Amelia was sober, there was nothing impeding her ability to think clearly, and she suddenly had this rakish look in her eyes that triggered an undeniably charmed reaction from within him.

He wanted her, and she wanted him.

Loki licked his lips, and nodded, admiring the pinkening flesh of Amelia's cheeks, and she grinned, bringing her hand up to cup his face before leaning in.

Amelia's lips were warm, soft, wonderful, everything he'd anticipated, and he remained outrageously still as she kissed him, as if even the slightest movement would startle her away; he only realised his eyes had slid closed when he opened them again as she withdrew a few inches, and she searched his eyes for a telling reaction.

It was the most chaste kiss he'd ever experienced. It was certainly nothing like the kisses he'd received from his various bed partners long ago - they'd been wet and messy, a few of them even rather bitey in the heat of the moment, full of crazed passion and driven by lust. Intense and fierce, but never so virtuous, and it took him off-guard, captivating him with a feeling he could not place.

He covered his dazed state with a wicked grin, "You call that a kiss?" he quipped, and didn't give Amelia even a second to react before he captured her lips again, this time filled with pent-up desire. He tilted her head back, intent on deepening the kiss, but she pulled away so suddenly, moving off of his lap, and Loki felt his stomach drop, afraid he'd come across as forceful and scared her off…

Until she repositioned herself to be straddling him, and closed the gap between them once again. Loki growled low in his throat, pulling her closer by the waist till they were practically plastered against each other, and he wasted no time with intensifying the kiss, rolling his tongue against her bottom lip until her mouth parted; he thrust it inside to brush against her own, spurred on by the breathy moan escaping her nose.

This was what Loki had wanted to do the night they danced; the overwhelming ache to move his mouth against hers, and taste her - there was a notable citrusy tang to her mouth, perhaps from the soda she'd been drinking - and he devoured it, leaving no inch of her mouth unexplored. His hand found her hair and he massaged his fingers through her short tresses, pulling her closer still; their noses bumped together from the vigour behind it, but Loki did not care - he had hungered for this.

She squirmed on his lap, causing unintentional friction, and Loki gave a throaty groan, the rumble reverberating from his mouth to hers, and Amelia moaned again in response, nipping gently at his lip.

Amelia broke the kiss with the much needed necessity to breathe, deep inhales and exhales that Loki himself matched - he'd been so eager to uphold the intimacy that he had almost forgotten about his burning lungs; the sight of the woman's face so lewd and gasping for air sent a bolt of want down his spine and straight to his groin. Her pupils were blown wide, eyes half-lidded, her cheeks red and her lips wet with saliva, and Loki suspected his appearance was no different.

He gripped her waist as they caught their breath and Amelia's legs on either side of his thighs squeezed enticingly - the little minx knew exactly what she was doing - and Loki's thoughts reeled as he wondered where this confident audaciousness had been hiding; she was far from timid now, and clearly she knew just what she wanted.

"James", she breathed, her pink tongue darting out to lick her lips, "do you want to stay the night?"

Loki swallowed, his mouth forming a delighted smirk as he read between the lines of her blatant proposition, "Yes, I do."

Notes: The next chapter will earn this story's mature rating, just so you know :') I worked so hard on this chapter and I'm so keen to see your feedback so if you wanna see that good stuff in the next chapter then remember to leave a review!